Fallout: Aftermath
by Draic Kin
Summary: AU: Though the Lone Wanderer survived the activation of Project Purity, the fate of the Capital Wasteland is still uncertain.
1. Chapter 1: Sacrifice

Disclaimer: I wish I could claim ownership to the brilliant Fallout Universe, but alas, that would be untrue.

The thoughts of the Lone Wanderer as he commits his final actions.

Sacrifice

Suffering from radiation is a pain that has become ironically familiar to me ever since I first left Vault 101. It was subtle at first, but as I was forced to survive in the harshest elements of the Wasteland, conserving the precious purified water I had collected overtime, but there would inevitably be occasions when I was forced to drink the radiated waters of the Potomac in order to survive.

I vomited the first time, my body rejecting the contaminants within the liquid, but I would eventually adapt and force myself to drink the water. Drinking the water was in a very real sense, only a temporary stay of execution, for while the polluted waters would keep me alive for a moment, the radiation was slowly killing me, a fate I shared along with every other human being residing in the charred remains of Washington DC.

A fate that can only be averted with the aid of Dad's purifier. I turn my head to see the airlock door seal with a tone of finality, Lyons behind it, her normally disciplined mask slipping away in favor of what appeared to be sorrow and admiration. I turn away, focusing on the room where my father died in order to save my life. I barely step into the room when I feel the first effects of the reactor, my limbs growing heavier with every step. If not for my power armor, I doubted I would have been capable of reaching the control board. It takes a mere five steps to reach the machine, but my body aches as though it had been five decades.

For a moment I stare at the numbers, remembering the favorite biblical verse of a mother I had never met, the verse's fulfillment soon to be created merely by the touch of my fingers. I look to my right, and see Dad, alive and well despite being dead for well over a month. I know he is a delusion, the heavy amount of radiation I'm absorbing undoubtedly affecting my mind as well as my body. But I take comfort in his presence, and he grips my shoulder one last time, a warm smile on his face as he speaks,

"Revelation 21:6, I am the Alpha and Omega, I give unto thee the waters of life, freely'. Marcus, you know what you have to do."

I nodded, and tapped the three numbers, and executed the command, and a bright green consumes my vision, and the pain finally becomes too much. My left leg gives in first, the right not far behind, and I find myself on my back, the ceiling above me. I can feel the blood beginning to exit my ears, my nose and eyes. I know that if the radiation doesn't kill me soon, I'm going to suffocate on my own blood.

With that cheery thought, I decide that I'm not going to wait for death on my back. My every movement is akin to being stabbed by a thousand blunt electrified nails, but with agonizing slowness, I make it to the airlock door, when I can't move any more, and find myself sitting with my back to the door, as good as a position as any to die in.

Dad's sitting next to me, tears in his eyes as he gazes at the fruition my mothers dream and decades of his life's work, and I can't help but grin at the sight, and with a voice that I can barely recognize, blood constricting my throat to the point that I'm amazed I can speak at all, mutter my final words.

"Looks like we got a happy ending for this story, Dad."

The last thing I see is Dad, shaking his head before the whiteness consumes my vision.

" No, Marcus, there are no happy endings. No endings at all really, and your part in the story is far from over."

The last sensation I feel is a pair of strong hands at my shoulders, and I knew no more.

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Draic: Looks like they may not be his final thoughts after all. I'll update soon.


	2. Chapter 2: Beneficial Consequences

I apologize. I was kind of frustrated with this chapter, juggling idea to idea on how to proceed. So in order to make up lost time, I'll give you a much larger chapter

To those who were kind enough to review thank you.

Long Live Warhammer40K: Wait and see!

BTS: I don't plan on disappointing.

TEN10X: Good advice is always appreciated.

Annabeth-1person-fan: Here you go.

Josh: I hope these two chapters fuel your interest.

Disclaimer: Again, not mine. I own only Marcus, and any other original characters that will eventually show up in this story.

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Beneficial Consequences

Outside the remains of the Jefferson Memorial, the sounds of battle had died away, only to be replaced by a background noise that grew more intense with every passing moment. The remainder of Brotherhood and Enclave soldiers who moments ago were locked in mortal combat soon found themselves deafened by the growing crescendo of the water. Even Liberty Prime, a machine whose sole purpose was for battle, ceased its war making for a moment to assess this new factor in the environment.

Then without warning it was silent, a false silence that promised that a far greater cacophony of noise would certainly come.

It did.

With a mighty roar that defied generations of contamination, disease, and pestilence, the waters of life flowed at last. Thousands upon thousands of gallons of fresh water were pumped from the Jefferson Memorial, irrevocably changing the environment within Washington DC, and ensuring the survival of future generations of humanity. In the weeks to come, plants would begin to grow along the edges of the Potomac. In just a few years, Farmers would use the fresh water to grow crops to support the growing population of the Capital Wasteland. And the wasteland itself would slowly over the centuries begin to fade away, and a new world would finally arise from the ashes of the old.

For most who realized the significance of the moment, they let themselves ponder of the future, of the change the purifier's activation would bring. For three other individuals, (a loyal canine, a Brotherhood Sentinel, and a scholarly super mutant) the future was the farthest thing on their minds. Ensuring the survival of the man who had sacrificed everything for that that future was their primary concern.

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Fawkes was the first one out of the Memorial, followed closely by Sarah Lyons and Dogmeat. The super mutant carried, with little difficulty, the armored figure of Marcus Dawn, determined to save his life.

"Medic!" was the first word out of Sentinel Lyons's mouth, her entire being demanding to find a way to save Dawn's life, though she knew the chances of saving someone so heavily radiated were close to nil. She had lost far too many men today however, and was not willing to let Marcus die without a fight.

As for Dogmeat, he kept close to his master, quiet but for the occasional whimper.

Fawkes gently set Marcus on the ground, where he was quickly attended to by one of the Brotherhoods surviving medics.

Not far from where the group was centered, the dozen or so surviving Enclave soldiers prepared to board their remaining two vertibirds when one soldier noted the cluster of figures on near the entrance. He turned and tapped his superior officer on the shoulder.

"Colonel Autumn?"

When Autumn looked at him in askance, the soldier pointed, and after a moment of study, the Colonel recognized the figure on the beach. Though his face gave away nothing, the Colonel debated internally for a moment, before making a decision that he knew might one day regret.

He turned to the soldier who addressed him. "Tell the pilot on the other bird to head to the delta base. We'll catch up with them later."

Then without waiting too see the soldiers reaction, Colonel Augustus Autumn began walking down the ramp towards the individuals whom he had been fully prepared to kill just a few minutes ago.

Meanwhile the medic, an older knight named Marek, offered a grim prognosis. "Were not going to be able to save him here. If he's going to have any chance at all, we need to keep him stable and isolated, which means we need to get him to the Citadel."

The medic gave a frustrated sigh,

"He's not going to survive the journey back however. Technically he should be dead already, but his body seems to be regenerating somehow, but unless we get him back to base _fast_ he will not survive."

A familiar accented voice interrupted any orders Sarah Lyons was about to bark.

"I may be able to help you there"

Sarah was the first to draw her rifle and was quickly followed by every other surviving member of the Lyons' Pride. Dogmeat bared his fangs at the silver haired colonel. Only Fawkes committed no threatening action, but a super mutant does not require weapons or even a threatening posture to look intimidating. His stare was enough.

In response Autumn only lifted his hands, showing no weapons, but a syringe with a red liquid. He continued speaking, his tone giving no indication of fear.

"I have in my hand a highly advanced version of radaway and stimpak . Injecting into Dawn's neck will give him a much better chance of survival. One of these was used last month to save my own life. I'm also willing to have him taken to the remains of the Pentagon via vertibird. Or you could shoot me, damage the medicine, and my men will either avenge me or leave, giving him no chance at all. So, what are you going to do?"

The Brotherhood members paused, and looked to Sarah for guidance.

Sarah Lyons was not a person who enjoyed receiving ultimatums. Before she could say anything however, Marcus began convulsing.

The medic immediatley dropped back to his patient, cursing his lack of attention to his charge. "He's going into cardiac arrest!"

"God Dammit!" Sarah cursed, an immediately rushed to Autumn, who, after recieving a quick "You'll live" surrendered the syringne.

Sarah quickly closed the distance between her and Marcus, and injected the red liquid into the convulsing man's neck. The convulsions ceased immediately, and was replaced by stable, if ragged, breathing.

Masking her relief with her trademark disclipine, Sarah began barking orders "Fawkes get him onto the Vertibird, Knight Marek" pointing at the medic "Your going with me on the 'bird, just in case he relapses. The rest of you, gather any wounded and head back to the Citadel. We'll be waiting"

She then turned and gave Autumn a glare that promised retribution at any hint of betrayal, and began running to the 'bird. The Colonel said nothing but followed close behind.

On the brief trip to the Citadel, Sarah Lyons asked one question and recieved one answer.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because that dying man on the ground convinced me from throwing my life away and the lives of my men. No other reason"

Nothing else was said.

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The Brotherhood sentries were understandably reluctant to allow an enemy gunship to land in the heart of their Citadel, but the biting reprimands made by the Sentinel were enough to prevent the vertibird from being shot down.

Once the 'bird landed, Marcus Dawn was quickly loaded onto a stretcher and rushed to the infirmary. No sooner had he left the ship did its pilot begin the ascent. Sarah looked at the rising vertibird, and caught Autumn looking down at her. He yelled over sound of the rotor blades.

"If he wakes up, tell him the I owe him nothing now! Remember!"

Sarah nodded, and the bird ascended and quickly dissapeared into the distance.

Sarah Lyons, Sentinel of the Brotherhood of Steel, suddenly felt very tired, and promptly sat back on the nearest wall.

The battle was over, and the fate of Marcus Dawn was out of her hands.

But deep in her bones, she knew, despite the victories of today, greater challenges would continue to arise.

With a sigh, she sat up and immedietly made a beeline for her father.

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I should have another chapter soon, hopefully by tommorow. Older Fallout fans should appreciate it.


	3. Chapter 3: Awakenings

Bigger chapters every posting it seems. I hope you guys are satisfied for a few days at the most.

Josh: Patience. You will get your first real hints soon enough

Long Live Warhammer 40k: Oh, he'll live, but certain changes occur after you survive a lethal amount of radiation…

BTS: I've got a plan, whether or not it is interesting depends on the amount of reviews I receive.

T.H.: Nope not pizza, SPAGHETTI!! As for Marcus' fate, well…

I know the only reason people are interested in this story is because I'm the first (that I've noticed) to write a story about the aftermath. I only hope my creative writing skills, lacking though they may be, continue to interest you guys.

I originally intended for this chapter to be the fourth, not the third, but I decided that I should explore a bit more into Marcus' character and what the radiation has done to him exactly. I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Nuff said

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Darkness. Pain. Coldness.

The combination of those three senses make me wonder if I'm in the lowest region of Dante's interpretation of Hell. I can hear people, but for the shrieks of the damned, they don't sound like they're in any pain. I can detect concern and confusion in their tones however, and I recognize at least one of those voices.

I try to open my eyes, but I continue to see only blackness. Cold fear grips me at the thought of being blind. I try to reach for my face, but I find my hand wrapped in what feel like leather straps. Oh you've got to be kidding me…

"For Gods sake, if I'm not imagining those voices, could someone get me out of these straps. Preferably sooner rather than later."

It's less painful to speak than I thought it would be, though I still feel a bit hoarse.

I wait for a response, but the voices are quiet. I sense someone on my right, and I feel gloved hands loosen the straps on that arm.

"Sorry Brother, I was the one who ordered you to be strapped down. You went into a violent cardiac arrest earlier, and I wanted to ensure that if you underwent another, you wouldn't toss yourself out of bed."

"Why can't I see anything? Am I blind? Where am I?"

I can hear the fear in my voice, and I try to will myself into some sort of calmness. Then I head the familiar voice of Madison Li coming from my left.

"I need you to calm down Marcus. You are in a very sensitive state right now and the last thing you need is to do yourself more harm by panicking."

I can hear her sigh, an exhalation that is tinged with vexation and amazement.

"Quite frankly I'm shocked your still breathing, let alone conscious, after being exposed to so much radiation."

I can hear something in her voice that sounded very much like suspicion, but before I can confront her on that, she answers my previous questions.

"Your safe in the Citadel infirmary, where we have been treating you since yesterday. As for your eyes, we bandaged them earlier, to staunch the bleeding. I think its safe say that you wont suffer any permanent visual impairments either".

I can't help sighing with relief, and as I do so, my other arm is freed and I take a moment to stretch them both, and I reach for the bandages on my eyes, which causes one of my caretakers to grab my hands before I can reach them.

"Let me do it son, I won't have you injuring yourself while you're under my care."

I'm starting to wonder who this guy is. His voice is unfamiliar to me but he seems likable enough. I relent to his ministrations and as he begins unwrapping the bandages, light slowly begins to ease into my sight, until finally vision returns to me.

After a moment or two of blurriness, I see that I'm in the isolated section of the Citadel infirmary, which appears to haven turned into a makeshift decontamination chamber, Doctor Li, and the concerned newcomer, a grizzled old fella who is almost certainly Brotherhood of Steel member, a senior medic maybe. They are both in radiation suits, but their masks are off, so it must be safe. Sawbones, the somewhat sadistic Mr. Gutsy model who nearly chopped my arm off the first (and last) time I requested medical services from it, looks like it's in a standby mode.

I asked for a mirror, and the Brotherhood guy obliged by grabbing a small one that had been on a nearby counter, handed it to me, which I used to examine my eyes, which looked fine, and the rest of my face for any damage. I kind of get a shock when I see Dad's face in the mirror, but it passes quickly. I have been looking more and more like him ever since I grew this beard, and I'm looking thirty years older than I really am right now. Hell, if it weren't for my longer hair and hazel eyes that I supposedly inherited from Mom, we'd be identical. I set the mirror down, banishing thoughts of my family for a moment.

I looked at my unknown caretaker and asked who he was, and he answered with a grim smile that was somewhat marred by scars on his lips.

"My name is Joseph Marek, I'm the closest thing to a real doctor within our little chapter of the Brotherhood, at least compared to the hunk of junk in the corner"

In response, Sawbones' optical sensors flared on, and the military turned medical robot hovered closer to us and promptly began cursing out Marek.

"Asshole! If it weren't for this combat inhibitor, I'd have you diced and fried like the spineless chicken you are." Then as if Marek or I didn't exist, the Mr. Gutsy focused on Doctor Li.

"Doctor, I have finished analyzing the blood sample from the subject, and have detected several anomalies. The alteration of his DNA alone, is-"

Doctor Li cut it off. "We'll get to that in a moment, Marcus" she said grabbing my attention "we need to talk about your survival in the control room. First-"

"Hold on a sec Doctor" I interrupted, for a moment stalling what I suspected was going to be news that I was going to die within a month or something equally dramatic and unwelcome. "Before we get into that, can you tell me about what happened yesterday? Did Project Purity succeed? And what about Sentinel Lyons, Fawkes, and Dogmeat? Is everyone alright?"

A bright grin enveloped Madison Li's face, the first I had ever seen from her from the normally taciturn scientist, and I knew that I had succeeded, that all my efforts since leaving Vault 101 had led to something truly beneficial, the dream of my family achieved. While Doctor Li told me what I had already figured out, I felt a great weight lifted off my shoulders and my relief only continued to grow as Li informed that my friends were all right.

"In fact," Doctor Li continued, possibly noting the glow of positive feelings that is undoubtedly radiating from me, "I'm sure they wouldn't object to hearing about your condition"

Turning to Marek, she ordered him to go inform Elder Lyons and his daughter about my that I had woken up, and was, for the moment, exhibiting no negative side effects to the radiation.

Marek didn't look like he appreciated getting orders from a civilian, but he agreed. After he giving me a brief nod, he left the room.

When the door closed, Doctor Li fixed my gaze, her happy demeanor abruptly vanishing, and gave me a look that indicated silence. She then waited for Marek's footsteps to fade away before she spoke.

"Marcus, I wanted you to be the first to hear this, and while I don't think the Brotherhood would harm you, I don't trust them." She then turned to Sawbones. "Don't give me the full report. Have you confirmed my theory, and whether or not he will turn into a Ghoul?" At mention of the word ghoul, I froze, and Li gave me an apologetic look.

Sawbones began outlying his report. "Your theory seems correct Doctor Li. The subject seems to have gained a benign mutation as a result of previous exposure to extreme radiation in the past, a regenerative condition that is either activated or amplified by exposure to radiation, similar to how Ghouls are able to heal themselves in the presence of atomic energy."

The memory of my experiment for the Wasteland Survival Guide, how I had heavily radiated myself for Moira so she could get as much information as possible on the effects of radiation on the human body. Why do I have to be such a selfless bastard? Sigh.

Sawbones continued on without consideration of inner mutterings. "This mutation is likely what kept the subject alive, for along with attacking his body, the radiation amplified the regenerative condition, which ensured that the subjects body was able to survive in the lethal levels of radiation, at least for a short while."

Ok, maybe Moira's experiment wasn't the dumbest thing I've ever done, if it kept me alive. Still hurt like hell. Sawbones continued speaking: "The subject, Marcus Dawn, latest exposures have apparently amplified the regenerative condition of the previous mutation of the previous condition, for the unknown substance the injected into the subjects neck effectively purged the radiation within him, and yet the regenerative condition persisted, to the point that that subject is conscious and fully aware only a day after the event took place."

The words "unknown substance" grab my attention, and after asking what that was about, Li gave me a surprising narrative about how my former nemesis Augustus Autumn, had not only apparently given me the drug that had likely saved my life, but had even given me a ride via vertibird to the Citadel so I could quickly receive medical attention. When I asked why, Li could not give me any answers, but i could only think of how I had stopped Autumn from throwing his life away would be the only possible way to incur compassion from him, on my behalf anyway.

After a quick prompt Sawbones continued, "Other side effects have likely to occurred as result to the subjects heavy exposure to radiation, sterility possibly one of them, but this unit does not conclude that the subject will become a Ghoul. Marcus Dawn's case is... unique."

Looking a little disapointed/annoyed that she might be wrong about me turning into a ghoul (yeah, by the way, thanks for the scare Madison), Li asked why the Gutsy model had determined that I wasn't set for a life of Ghoul-dom, (it is really irritating me on how these two are acting as if I'm not here).

Sawbones: "Generally, prior to turning into Ghouls, human subjects are exposed to low levels of radiation for a very long time, ranging from months to years, while the subject has been exposed to very large amounts of radiation for a brief amount of time, and thus it unlikely that he will undergo similar degeneration to that of a Ghoul. Marcus Dawn, while not a ghoul, has experienced enough mutation that to label him as a "human" may be considered a misnomer."

An articulate, if guttural, voice emanates from the doorway "Then perhaps Meta-Human, I believe, would be a more appropriate term."

I straighten in my bed with surprise, and notice in my peripheral vision Doctor Li mirroring my actions, though her action has more to do with fear, but she hides her aprehension well. Apparently I was so focused on Sawbones that I couldn't detect a ten foot tall Super Mutant (sorry, "Meta Human") in the door way. Kneeling down, Fawkes squeezed through the door way, after moving a bit closer, kept himself in a bowed position, for the purpose of avoiding hitting the ceiling with his skull. Waiting impatiently behind him was Dogmeat, who once he saw me, immeidietly jumped up on my cot and preceded to shower my face with a great deal of dog slobber. This could have continued indefinetly had I not gently put my loyal dog on the floor and given him a strong rubbing behind the ears to keep him relaxed while I continued talking with everyone. I turned to Fawkes "How much did you hear?"

" I heard enough to know that you have changed my friend, though not to what extent. Truly, you were foolish to have rushed into that room when you could have simply summoned me and I could have activated the machine without any risk to my life."

I sighed "Your right Fawkes, but I didn't know how much time we had before the purifier overloaded. You had gone to the lower levels to scour for any hiding Enclaves soldiers, and I simply didn't want to take the risk of looking for you and running out of time."

The scholarly former prisoner of Vault 87 shook his head. "Noble action seems reflexive of you my friend, but I had only been outside the rotunda. But... " Fawkes paused, raised his head, and looked out the door "But such matters cannot be altered, and we have a far more pressing issue at hand. It seems that three individuals, one of whom sounds like the Elder Lyons, are making their way here." Fawkes returned his gaze to me, the intelligence in his eyes remarkable even after all this time "You must decide whether to make them privy to the fact that you have changed as a result of your actions in the purifier."

I wasn't surprised that Fawkes could analyze noise at such distance, but he was right. Some members of the Brotherhood had proven to be somewhat xenophobic, to the point that they would fire at non hostile Ghouls, but while I couldn't speak for the entirety of their order, I knew that Owyn Lyons was a compassionate man, and his daughter had inherited her fathers values, if not his patience. I could only hope that they could be trusted with the secret of my mutation, a reality that I don't think I'm really aware of yet.

I gave everyone in the room an intense stare, sans Dogmeat, who had quieted at the tension of the room. "I can trust the Lyons family, but lets not tell the whole Brotherhood of Steel about this. I don't really think there is any true threat to me, but you can never be too sure."

Fawkes nodded, and Madison agreed, though I saw hesitation in her posture. When the footsteps became audible to me, I steeled myself for what would undoubtledly be an important conversation.

Marek was the first through the door, followed by Sarah Lyons, and what I immedietley noticed was that while she appeared very tired, her eyes were shining at the sight of me. She nimbly dodged around everyone else came close to me and gave me a solid look in the eye. The she did something I would never, expected from the eternally cool and disciplined Sarah Lyons: smiled a smile that lit up the room, and for a moment I forgot that for nearly a year I'd spent fighting to survive, killing men and vicious beasts, witnessing the cruelty of both a hostile wasteland and the humanities malice, and the death of my only parent. For a moment there was only peace, but reality returned quickly enough when I heard Marek complain that the small room was getting far too crowded.

"Then perhaps, the rest of you could step out for a moment." An elder voice stated, his tone indicating that this was a polite command. "Sarah and I would like to speak our intrepid hero in private."

I believe that Owyn Lyons was person who didn't have to yell for people to listen to him, or even use his rank as Elder a symbol for authority very rarely. Others simply respected him, as I do, recognizing perhaps at a subconscious level, that here is a man who means to the right and noble thing.

After a moments pause, everyone began to file out, an exodus that was only interupted by a great deal of maneuvering by everyone to allow Fawkes to exit first, the only occupants in the room were myself, loyal Dogmeat, and the Lyons father and daughter.

Sarah started speaking the moment the door closed. "You are, without a doubt, the most insufferable, selfless sonuvabitch I'd ever have the pleasure of meeting. You could have waited just a few moment for your Super Mutant friend to show up, but you run in there without a thought to your own life." Sarah sighed and then gave me another of those rare smiles. "Thank you so much for what you did."

"Indeed, son of James." The Elder came and gripped my shoulder affectionately, his normally tired posture invigorated with hope and success "Your father would have been very proud of you. Now tell me, how are you feeling? Marek mentioned that you have made a remarkable recovery."

I geared myself for it, this was the moment "Well Elder, there is a reason apparently as to _why_ I'm recovering so quickly".

For a few minutes I explained about my experiment for the Wasteland Survival Guide, how it gifted me the benign mutation that had helped me survive being in the control room. How, according to Doctor Li and Sawbones, I was no longer entirely human, that I may turn into a Ghoul. As I explained all this, the severity of the reality of it all sunk in. But, I realized, that I may know a person who could help me figure out what I could do next for this predicament.

The Lyons family, as I expected, accepted the news compassionately.

"Ghoul or not, mutant or not, we owe you a great deal, and will not allow you to come to harm within the Brotherhood. Truthfully, after all that you have done, I doubt there is anyone in the Brotherhood of Steel, or the Capital Wasteland really, who would harm you after what you have done." Sarah promised, and, judging from her agressive stance, she's daring the universe to prove her wrong.

"Yes, but what will you do about this? I don't expect you'll enjoy being experimented by Madison, or any of the scribes." Owyn questioned.

I shook my head at thought of being in bed for days and constantly subjected to experiments. "There is a Ghoul in Underworld, a Doctor Barrows, who considers himself an expert on Ghoul evolution, and if anyone can determine if I'm going Ghoul, it'll be him." I shook my head "All the same, I'd appreciate if you guys kept quiet about this. No need to get everyone excited about something that can't be changed."

They nodded. There was a pause, and for a moment Owyn Lyons looked deep in thought, and Sarah looked at him expectantly.

"This new information was unexpected but it doesn't really change what I'm about to ask of you."

Owyn Lyons suddenly became very serious. "Marcus, I have to say that your one of the most skilled individuals I've ever met. You have proven yourself not only as an extremely capable warrior, but extremely resourceful. You alone were able to locate the origin of the Super Mutants, put an end to Paradise Falls, cause the destruction of the Enclave, and activate Project Purity. Not only are you extremely capable, but you've also proven to be compassionate, brave to a fault, and highly respected as a hero by nearly all you meet. Quite frankly, you have made more of a difference than I have been able to make in the nearly two decades as Elder in this region. It is because of this that I would like to offer you a place in the Brotherhood of Steel."

For a moment I said nothing, but looked at both of them, and they returned my gaze unblinking. I folded my arms. "While I appreciate the offer Elder, I'd like to know what role you'd have in mind for me in the Brotherhood."

Owyn glanced at his daughter, then responded,

"Sarah and I had discussed this extensively, and we realized you work your best as an independent operative, or at least in small groups. I would make you a Vanguard of our order, answerable only to me, and equal only to Sarah in rank. If you were to accept, you would essentially retain your independence, but have the resources of the Brotherhood at your disposal. I trust you enough that I doubt I will ever countermand your orders, only in the event that the Brotherhood itself is threatened by your actions."

Well... this has proven to be an interesting morning. First I think I'm dead, then I'm blind, and then I find in reality that I'm no longer entirely human, and now I'm offered what is undoubtedly one of the greater positions of power in DC. I can't help but think about that morning in Vault 101 when Amata shook me to into reality and I found my world changed beyond control. Once again I wake to find my world utterly different. Well, no choice but to go forward.

I gingerly raise my hand to Elder Lyons. "I'm in." I say with a grin.

Owyn answers the grin with one of his own, and grips my hand firmly

"Welcome to the Brotherhood of Steel."

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Next chapter: "A Broadcast to the Coming Storm"


	4. Chapter 4: Broadcasts to the Storm

I love the support I'm getting from everyone. It's quite refreshing really.

OK for now on I'm only going to answer reviews that necessarily need an answer. Shouts of encouragement (or in Teh One's case, demands for more) shall from now on be answered with a thank you and a new chapter.

Anon: Your right about that. Hmm, I may fix that or somehow include it into the story, but quite frankly, going into a Super Mutants exact sexuality is not something I'd like to think about.

Olafur: Well the Super Mutants are still a problem, but they will not be a central foe, at least for most of the story. As for the Outcasts, well, lets just say when Marcus runs into them, the result will be… interesting.

DDG: Thanks for the correction; as you can see I fixed the error.

Agent-G: You just gave me an idea. I'd forgotten about that quest with the ants, but there is at least a small part of the story where Marcus will run into that he could use the gift Lesko gave him to his advantage… So thank you!

Also guys, I'm thinking about changing the rating on the story to M. The realization that my story may eventually become considerably gorier down the road, plus the possible death of central characters, has caused me to ponder this. So tell me what you think and enjoy the newest chapter. (I really hope I have Three Dogs character down.)

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Three Dog had been rather surprised the day when he had walked downstairs, taking one of the rare breaks he afforded himself away from his beloved radio station, and discovered that most of the Brotherhood of Steel detachment that garrisoned at GNR were arming their weapons and preparing leave. The only ones staying were any wounded and the greenest of the initiates.

Three Dog, who's first thought was that there must be a crap load of Super Mutants outside, but that theory was belied by the utter lack of gunfire coming from outside, made a beeline for Knight Sergeant Wilkes.

"Wilkes! What the hell is going on man? Are the bad guys coming here or are you guys finally giving up one me?"

Wilkes, though his face was hidden behind his helmet, grinned at Three Dog, and it was detectable through his voice. "Not today my friend. We just received orders from the Citadel. Lyons wants us to rendezvous with a contingent from the Mall, and from there were going to head south. Were going to put an end to the Enclave."

Three Dog was silent for a full three seconds before smiling fiercely, earnestly told the Brotherhood soldiers to kick some ass, and then promptly ran back to his studio, his original reason for leaving the sanctuary forgotten. Before he made it though, Finley, one of the younger knights called out to him.

"Hey Three Dog! That friend of yours, the kid from Vault 101, we heard that he's been made a member of Lyon's Pride. Looks like the Sentinel's been listening to your broadcasts about him, eh?"

This elicited a guffaw from the soldiers, but Three Dog was not surprised with the information. It seemed that ever since Marcus Dawn left that Vault of his, there wasn't anything that involving the Good Fight that the Lone Wanderer wasn't leading the charge on. Three Dog thought back with amusement how Marcus had one day burst into the studio and demand Galaxy News Radio end these "Lone Wanderer" broadcasts. He believed that Three Dog was making him out to be some sort of messianic figure, especially after the, "last, best hope for humanity" broadcast and was not amused by it.

Three Dog had let Marcus vent for a few minutes, but was unwilling to end the "Lone Wanderer" oriented broadcasts. When Marcus demanded why, Three Dog pointed out how reporting his actions were doing more for the common good than anything else the DJ had said on the radio for years. The simple fact was that with Marcus as a symbol for good in the world, more and more people were taking a stand against corruption and evil in all its forms. Slavers were no longer feared and respected, but considered vile and depraved, and it was getting harder and harder to find markets for slavery. Bigotry against ghouls was at all time low, and the larger pockets of civilization were becoming increasingly tolerant towards mutated humans. And most importantly of all, Three Dog argued, Marcus served as a reminder to the world, that though humanity nearly destroyed itself out of the pettiest emotions, greed and hatred, humanity could still aspire for a greater future that would not be ruined by repeating the mistakes of the past.

Marcus didn't say anything to that immediately, but for few minutes it looked as though he was suffering a migraine. But he eventually conceded to the idea that other might use him as an example, and because of that, GNR could continue its broadcasts. But Marcus "requested" that Three Dog remind everyone that he was not a saint or paladin or whatever. "If ever have to walk by my house and be called, 'Atom's divine incarnation of the division' and be asked for blessings and some such, I'll know the bigmouth who was responsible".

Three Dog acquiesced to that request. For a day or two. Then Marcus destroyed Paradise Falls, crippling the slaver guilds, freed the slaves, and had a hand in restoring Abraham Lincoln's monument. By then it was too late for Marcus, at least for any who'd spent their life suffering or fighting against slavery , to be anything but a mythological/savior figure.

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Like a bat out of hell, Three Dog, burst into the studio, causing Margaret, his sole technician, to nearly drop and shatter one of their precious music holodisks. Fortunately, she caught it just in time, only to look up to see Three Dog above her, looking amused.

"Your getting better Margaret. Last time the disk was five inches away from the ground, but you've raised it it to twelve. You're going to replace me in no time" Three Dog said with friendly sarcasm.

Margaret blushed and carefully placed the disk with the rest of the collection, and turned back to Three Dog, apologies written in her eyes. He waved them off before she could utter a word. Three Dog had bigger concerns than tiny accidents. He had much larger incidents to report and to make.

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Special GNR Broadcast 1 , The day of the Battle for Project Purity

_Hello Capital Wasteland! This is Three Dog, and we have to interupt our normal programing for a special live report. Children, you already know that the Enclave has taken over the old Jefferson Memorial, and have been claiming that Project Purity, an advanced purifier that supposedly can purify the Potomac of radiation. Of course, just like "snake in the garden" Eden and his patsy Colonel "resistance is futile" Springtime, have been shoveling Bullshit by the ton down our throats again on this. The Brotherhood of Steel and a group of scientists, including our would be vault dweller, James, were the real creators of the purifier. Now James is dead and Enclave are taking credit for his life's work._

_Well, today children, enough is enough! At this moment the Brotherhood is mobilizing to retake the memorial, ready to Fight the Good Fight! "But Three Dog" you ask me, "How's the Brotherhood going to defeat the Enclave, they have advanced technology, like power armor and flying tanks?" Well children I won't lie, it's not going to be easy, in fact you might even say the Brotherhood is going to need a miracle to beat these bastards. Well children, it just so happens that the Brotherhood has decided to bring in a miracle worker._

_That's right Wastelanders! The Lone Wanderer has sided up with the Brotherhood of Steel, and if anyone is going to succeed in such a task Children, it's none other than the kid from Vault 101. Now Children, I'm not a religious person, it's difficult to be in a world thats more of a hell than any earthly realm. But I would like to ask you to pray for the Lone Wanderer and the knights of the Brotherhood of Steel. No matter what happens today, victory or defeat, these men and women are going to battle for you children, they are willing to sacrifice their own lives for the freedom and future for everyone in the Capital Wasteland. So please Children, if your too far away or other wise unable to join the fight, hope and pray for the best. And if your in the neighborhood when the fireworks go off, let the our guys do their job, but if you can fight, take up your rifle. If you can provide shelter for the wounded, then please do so. Anything children you can do Children, because this is the moment. This is our time to rise up together and make a difference. We won't waste this opportunity. We can't waste this chance._

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Taking a deep breath, Three Dog turned off the microphone and closed his eyes. Then flashed them open and sat shock still for a second before cursing

"What the hell am I doing here?"

The idealistic disk jockey jumped out of his chair, went into his room, pulled out a dusty suit of combat armor, and rushed down the stairs, kidnapped an unsuspecting initate who knew where the Brotherhood rendezvous was, and went to join the Good Fight.

An hour later, Knight Sergeant Wilkes thought nothing could beat the suprise he felt when saw the eccentric Three Dog armed and ready for battle. He would later be proven wrong when the Brotherhood contingent was intercepted continually by willing recruits, the skilled mercenary group labeled Reilly's Rangers, Harkness and Rivet City's security forces, Hannibal Hamlin and other former slaves from the Temple of the Union, and dozens of others who were eager to take up arms against the Enclave.

When Wilkes saw Three Dog again, he gave him an accusatory look to which GNR's DJ smiled, shrugged and said, unconvincingly "Word sure does get around, doesn't it?"

Wilkes wasn't sure whether to kill him or thank him. How the hell was he going to arm so many recruits? Fortunately, two merchant caravans also arrived, led by Lucky Harith and Crow, weapons and armor dealers. When asked why they were here to freely supply everyone in need, they merely said they were going to improve chances for their investor.

Now with an army three times larger than they originally started with, the Brotherhood moved to their battle plan position and waited for their signal. The sight of Liberty Prime eradicating his foes as though they were oiled parchment proved to be an effective beacon from miles away, and the battle was joined. The Enclave was utterly trapped, with an elite squad of warriors and a super weapon coming from the west, and a united army of soldiers and citizens from the east. All the while the hopes and prayers of thousands were against them as well. In the end, the remnants of the US government never had a chance at all.

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Special GNR Broadcast number 2, the evening after the Battle for Project Purity.

_People of the Capital Wasteland, today has been one hell of a day. For those of you who weren't listening to my previous report, the Brotherhood of Steel had been mobilizing for a final showdown with the Enclave, and Children, it brings me great pleasure to report that the battle is over and the good guys won! Three Dog himself was there to see it all, and let me tell you, the Good Fight has never had such a victory. We sent Eden's greenhorn's scurrying with their tails between their legs, and that was if they were lucky. For a moment it looked scary, I'll admit, but when the Brotherhood let loose, I kid you not, a giant robot that cut through the Enclave like a bullet through paper, victory was pretty much set. Currently the metal monstrosity is back at the Citadel, but I'm pretty sure the Brotherhood won't have to worry about the Frankensteins for much longer if they keep that thing active and patrolling._

_But the sight of a forty foot tall killing machine proved to be the tip of the iceberg, Children. See, the Lone Wanderer, Marcus Dawn went straight into the heart of enemy territory, taking back the Memorial with support from, get this, an intelligent super mutant, a dog, and one of the Brotherhood's best, Sentinel Sarah Lyons. Between the four of them, the remainder of Enclave surrendered and flew their asses out of there. But then Dawn did something that should make him remembered for all time Children. He went into the massively irradiated control room, and activated the purifier. Thats right Children, let every corner of the Capital Wasteland take note, as of this moment, The Potomac is now completely lacking in radiation or muck. Pure, clean, drinkable water. Take out your geiger counters and check it yourself if you don't believe old Three Dog. And we have it all thanks to the Lone Wanderer._

_Unfortunately, Children, our friend Marcus was hit pretty hard by the radiation. The latest reports I'm getting say that he's still alive, being treated at the Citadel, but that the radiation he took in was enough to kill most people within moments. Right now Children, the man who risked it all for us could very well die for his sacrifice. Last night I asked for prayer for a better future for all of us. Now I ask for that you give your thoughts and prayers to the man who sacrificed the most for that better future. Good night and good luck._

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For most listening to the radio that night, a reason for celebration was given and in just about every town in the remains of DC, somebody pulled out their special liquor stash, and parties were rampant. A toast to the Lone Wanderer was universal, and the only somber note within the celebrations. For the most part though, optimism and hope were predominant.

At least two individuals were not happy, however. One was Colonel Talon Crichton, the leader and namesake of Talon Company, the infamous mercenary group. In the year since Marcus Dawn escaped from Vault 101, Talon Company had suffered extreme losses as a result of the Lone Wanderer, the heaviest being the loss of Fort Bannister and the DC region Commander, Jabsco. Crichton, who had only recently returned to DC after expanding operations in the south, was not happy. When told the name of the man responsible, he sent several Talon companies best assassination squads after him, and not a single one of them had survived. And now the bastard was still alive, and currently ensconced in the heart of the Brotherhood of Steel. Well if the bastard lives, Crichton thought, I'm going to have organize something more creative. His employers would not be pleased with such failure.

The other irritated individual listening to the broadcast was apathetic to the fate of Marcus Dawn, as he was just one more human, to be killed or assimilated. The being in question was far more mutated than any ghoul or common Super Mutant. It had once been human, a man named Thomas Monroe, but that had been more than thirty years ago, and nothing remained of the unlucky soul who had been captured by the super mutants and tossed into the FEV vats. But when Monroe had been placed into the FEV, he did not change as his captors had anticipated. The super mutants of the Capital Wasteland, at that moment, had a master. The creatures suddenly became more organized, and more aggressive in their expansion of the Wasteland, and a primal psychic force drove on their already primitive minds to kill or capture all humans. The only Super Mutant who resisted the psychic compulsions, Fawkes, merely believed that her darker nature was rearing its head, and did not realize it was any form of psychic compulsion.

The Monroe creature left Vault 87, found another isolated sanctuary that granted it time to increase its awareness. The creatures ultimate goal was known only to itself, but the purity of the water vexed it. Super Mutants did not fear radiation, while humanity slowly died with the formerly corrupted water. Now the humans would be able expand and that was unacceptable. The purifier had been invaded twenty years ago for this very reason, to prevent any possibility of the water being purified. Now they would have to retake the memorial and destroy it.

At that moment, Super Mutants around the Wasteland felt the compulsion to mobilize and prepare for battle in DC. It would be several days before the attack would take place, but when it did, the full might of the Super Mutant population of the Capital Wasteland would be determined to destroy Project purity.

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And there was a third individual who listened attentively to the GNR announcement, but this newcomer was neither angered or enthused by Three Dog's words. At the moment she was alone, listening to the announcement on an old PIP boy 2000, the reasons for battle and names mentioned in the report unfamiliar to her. She had just arrived into GNR's broadcast radius, and had been shocked when her outdated model had started playing music. It took her a moment to realize that she was listening to an actual radio broadcast, something she would never believe to hear in the uncivilized Wasteland.

Once Three Dog stopped speaking, she shut off the antique pip-boy, and considered the implications. If they were able to restore such technology in this region, then what else was out here? She paused , took off her power helmet, and looked at the night sky. One of the few benefits of the great war was the beauty of the night sky, how all the stars were visible, like sparkling diamonds in an ebon cave. The newcomer put her helmet back on and considered the DC region in front of her, and the shadows that were at her back. Could the answer be here, a bastion against the Plague that was spreading from the west? She looked and saw the other refugees, all exhausted as she was, wanting to find a sanctuary, wanting to find a place to find a place to rest and prepare for the inevitable storm. She shook her head, knowing that no matter how far they went, the Plague would pursue them, and the darkness would spread. The newcomer considered the Capital Wasteland, and Three Dog's report, and how it seemed to promise an age of peace here.

She cursed quietly, knowing that their very presence would bring war to this region. But what other choice did they have? Regrouping with the Brotherhood of Steel expedition sent here decades ago was the only chance they had against the Plague.

"Shit." She muttered, kicking at a nearby rock.

"Are you alright Alice?" A deep, rusty voice interrupted her ruminating.

She'd know it was Tiberius, had heard his familiar gait heading in her direction, but she hadn't been in the mood to talk with her fellow Paladin, but was busy thinking about what she had heard on the PIP Boy.

She shook her head at his question, and for a moment said nothing, then admitted "I wish things were different."

Tiberius nodded with understanding, his age old eyes speaking volumes. He sighed "We do what we must. If we had seen the threat growing around us, we could have prevented all of this, and the Brotherhood be much the same as it was before the Plague. But change is the only constant, and we must adapt or die."

Alice looked to the east, where their only chance remained, "Do you think they will accept us? Lyons last message indicated that they had gone rouge."

Tiberius shook his head "I don't know. We abandoned them out here for years. They may be right to reject us. But we have no other choice, and once the Plague arrives, and you and I both know that they will, they will have no other choice but to fight with us."

Alice Finn, Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel, nodded sadly in agreement, and looked back at the others behind them, all that remained once was the greatest military force in the west coast that been reduced to a combination of refugees and tired soldiers, and hoped for a a better future that she knew may never be.

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Next Chapter "Not your usual Doctor's Appointment"


	5. Chapter 5: A Visit to the Doctors Office

Thank you again for all the kind words and support. I have have decided to make this story an M rated one, because, Fallout has always been a gratuitously violent universe, and this chapter will certainly get into that tradition. Sorry it took so long, but I have the irritating phenomenon known as real life to blame for that.

Agent-G: Really? (looks over guidelines carefully) The only thing I see that might apply would responding to negative reviews in an equally negative manner... So I'll continue as I am until a moderator orders me to stop and highlights exactly what you referred to. Until then, I will continue to answer questions on the story.

EchoGarrote: Fawkes is a she, or at least was once (sigh) unnecessarily complicating, but for now just go with it.

Josh: Well... I'm not going to answer this one. Marcus has a lot of choices ahead of him, and prospective paramours are just one of the many potential decisions. You just have to wait and see what happens. Amata does have role in this story though, that you can certain of.

What I wanted to do with this chapter was to both illustrate Marcus' skills as a warrior and to test my own writing in the form of detailing fight scenes.

The martial art forms mentioned in this chapter are real, and while they may not exist in the fallout universe, well, this is an AU story. Get over it.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Nuff Said

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Three days after the Battle of Project Purity

When ever I take the time to sharpen my skills via practice, and not reality, I often imagine my foes so the chaotic element of battle remains, rather than the basic repetition of motions I already know how to perform. My first imaginary opponent was a super mutant, and he is about cave in my skull with a sledgehammer. Rather than attempt to dodge the blow, I go under his guard, striking a pressure point his arms, forcing him to relinquish the hammer.

_Ever since I first left Vault 101, I've been forced to to learn the brutal techniques on how to end the lives of others, of which there are many. So very many. I've learned how to properly use every caliber of weapon for deadly effect, how to wait patiently for the single shot that could turn the tide of a battle, how keep focus and awareness in the middle of a fire fight. Using energy weapons, I've reduced men to ashes and puddles of plasma. I've learned how to manipulate explosives and how to use and design them for always fatal traps. I've learned how to repurpose some of the forgotten technology of the past into deadly armanents to rival even the most technologically advanced weaponry._

A hard kick to the mutants ankle producing a satisfying snap that causes him to buckle lower, placing him in a perfect position for seven direct hits, aiming for soft spots under the jaw and eyes.

_But none of the deadly skills or weapons I've picked up in my travels can compare to the deadly skill I've always carried within me, for my body is the most lethal weapon in my arsenal. Hand to hand combat does not consist of simpley punching as hard as you can in your opponents face, its about learning the dozens of weaknesses that are inherent in every foe, and exploiting every one of them. Martial arts is also understanding how to constantly better yourself, not just physically for battle, but mentally and spiritually as well._

The mutant strikes back, adrenaline giving it greater speed and strength, but I'm already behind him, in a perfect position to snap his neck. It falls, dead, or in the process of dying.

_Right now I'm half way through practicing one of the more advanced techniques I've learned through out my travels in the Citadel Courtyard, and in the process, I ponder back to when I first killed a man with my bare hands. It had been in my escape from Vault 101, and the only beings I had harmed were the radroaches scurrying about my feet, and I had either snuck past or knocked unconcious the Overseers guards. Then I came across Jonas' body. Jonas had always been my Dad's best friend in Vault 101, and to me he was like an uncle, one of the closest things to another family member in my life. To see him there, on the ground, shattered and broken... I snapped. I halted my efforts to escape Vault 101, to find Dad, all in order to find the fucker responsible. Thomas Mack._

Now my opponent is human, an Enclave Soldier, his black armor somehow absorbing all the light that came near it, his yellow eyes cold and inhuman. He is armed with a Ripper vibroblade, the blade buzzing hungrily for flesh.

_Amata had told me when she shook me awake that morning that Mack had murdered Jonas, but I didn't really believe it until I saw the body on the ground. Then, I think, it all realy changed for me, that was the moment where I was on the precipice between light and darkness. I backtracked my steps, going to where I suspected Mack to be, the Vault Jail. When I opened the door, what I saw caused my blood to boil even more, if thats possible: Amata was strapped to a chair, her normally lovely face marred by a black eye, Mack right next to her, a sadistic grin on his face, obviously the one responsible, the Overseer, her own father, observing his daughter being tortured. It was too much for me, and with a dexterity that would later frighten me once I left the Vault, snapped Mack's neck with barely a thought. The first man I had ever killed, fell to the ground, his evil grin permanently remaining on his features, somehow mocking me. I then looked at the Overseer, how he was defenseless, how I knew I could kill him with barely an effort. For a moment time stood still, and I then looked at his daughter, my friend, her eyes pleading._

The Enclave soldier stabs the blade forward, intending to jam it into my neck. I jump forward, performing four lighting fast punches, amplified by my power fist, into his head and chest, stunting his his charge, and then I perform a sweeping kick, that causes the soldier to collapse like a tower of metal. He attempts to recover, but with a kick that dents his demonic helmet, unconscious or stunned. I pick up the blade, see my reflection in the metal. I throw it to the ground, and crush it beneath my feet.

_It was then that I understood something. If I killed the Overseer, I would be no better than Mack, a monster who killed for pleasure. I then left the precipice, untied Amata, and left the Overseer with Mack's body. In the year that has passed since that day, I've killed a great deal of people, raiders, slavers, soldiers, and mercenaries. But I killed them because I had to, because if they lived, others, innocents, would die. But, I wonder, is that really true? Or am I just like them, a monster who takes pleasure at the death of others. I don't know. I just do the best I can._

I leave the realm of my demons I'm starting to wind down with this combat form, Krav Maga, and am about to switch into another, Jeet Kune Do, when I notice the light of the sun creeping over the edges of the Citadel. I pause and decide training can wait. The moment, as it always does, takes precedence.

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Marek wasn't happy when he noticed that I was leaving with just some basic leather armor. Though I was technically a hundred percent healthy (not counting the recent mutation of course) he wanted to mitigate any potential harm to his patient. For a hardened Brotherhood warrior, he certainly act like a mother hen at times.

"Are you sure you want go out there without any power armor? You should know by now how dangerous it can be out there"

I gave him a reassuring smile. "Relax Marek, its not my first trek into DC and I know a few shortcuts to the Mall. Besides, Fawkes and Dogmeat here, are perfectly capable back up."

Fawkes gave an affirmative nod "Indeed, I shall do everything in my power to ensure Marcus does not come to harm. Although... it can be frustrating to do so as he prefers to jump head first into dangerous situations."

I gave Fawkes a small glare "Your not helping."

Fawkes gave me the super mutant equivalent of a sheepish smile.

Marek, unsurprisingly, did not look reassured, so I decided to let him in on a little secret to get his mind off his concerns for my safety

I led our small group into the Citadel Lab, where a great deal of the scribes were busily repairing Liberty Prime, intending to bring the deadly machine Titan back into full battle readiness.

But my concern was smaller group of scribes in the smithy room. There were four of them, clustered around my T51b power armor, already working on what could potentially help the Brotherhood a great deal in the months to come.

My eyes found Scribe Bowditch who was individually working on the helmet of my armor. When he looked up at me he smiled. "I see you've come to see if we have had any progress Marcus."

I shook my head "Actually I just wanted to show Marek here what you and I are going to be setting up. I turned to Marek "You see Marek, a lot of the power armor models the Brotherhood has were obsolete even before the bombs fell, and ever since the Enclave showed up, its been showing how much they are in need of an upgrade." I showed him a diagram on my PipBoy "While I was imprisoned at the Enclave Base, Raven Rock, I hacked into one of their computers and managed to get the schematics of the Mark II and Tesla power armor. Now we don't have the capability to fully replicate the technology, but Bowditch and I reasoned that we certainly could add things on, such as minor increases in the armor density, additional flexibility, and most importantly, radios."

Bowditch nodded and joined in the discussion. He picked up a salvaged Enclave helmet and pointed at he two "horns" at the tip "These are two radio transcievers, which allowed the Enclae soldiers to keep in better contact with each other. We believe that provided we get enough raw materials, we can certainly place similar radio communication devices into our power armor."

Bowditch pointed at my silver armor, its shape starting to change with the modifications the scribes were making to it. "Last night after Marcus showed me his discovery and plans, I offered to upgrade his armor with as many of the modifications as were possible. For an outsider, he has done a great deal for our order and I certainly thought he was worth of a award."

"Right. Outsider" I said, frowning. The Lyons and I had decided to postpone announcing my acceptance as Vanguard for awhile, after I returned from Underworld with any news of my mutation and how it might affect my presence in the Brotherhood.

Bowditch took my frown as offense and quickly apologized, but I reassured him it was nothing. Marek then spoke up. "How long before we can mass implement this tech into everyones power armor?"

Bowditch and I shared a look, as we had discussed this last night "It will take awhile for everyone to be outfitted, as we just don't have enough of the materials for everyone instantly. We'll focus on getting the upgraded armor primarily soldiers for knights on dangerous missions, and in the meantime we will scavenge and trade for the materials we need." Bowditch explained.

That pretty much ended the conversation, for while Marek could understand the implications of the idea, the technical details were not his forte.

Half an hour later, Dogmeat, Fawkes and I left the Citadel and set out for Underworld.

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The journey was uneventful, interrupted only by brief battles with a nest of Mirelurks and a group of Feral ghouls. When we arrived at the Mall itself, I noticed right off the bat that something was different about the place. It didn't take me long to realize what it was.

"The Super mutants! They're gone!"

At my exclamation, Fawkes sniffed the air. "Yes... there are none of my brethren here." Sniff "But they left recently... at least a day or so in the past."

This was unnerving. Every time I journeyed across the Washington Mall, I participated in at least one fire fight with the mutants. With them vanished like this... they must have gone somewhere. Some one must have seen...

I found my witness in the form of Willow, the red haired ghoul sentry for Underworld. "Ah, its the tourist. I was wondering when you'd show up again." She took a long drag on a cigarette, and continued "Heard your the one to blame for the lack of radiation in the water." She smiled the typical ghoulish smile "I liked the flavor you know, now I'll just have to have regular tasteless water from now on."

"Sorry Willow." I said, smiling, not sounding at all apologetic. I liked Willow, Ghouls with a decent sense of humor are hard to find, being understandably bitter about their condition. But now humor is not the matter of importance.

"Have you seen the super mutants lately Willow?"

She shrugged "The knuckle draggers? Haven't seen any besides your friend there for a day or so. They scattered in all directions, taking the metro, climbing over the rubble, whatever, they didn't stay as you can plainly see."

I frowned. Super Mutants, once they have a high concentration in an area, are normally extremely unwilling to surrender it. What would possibly make them leave of their own free will, and in such numbers? Certainly worthy of investigation, but I was determined to meet with Barrows. Hmm.

"Fawkes, I want you to take Dogmeat and search for any clues, find out which way they went, their purpose of leaving, anything. I'm going to meet with Barrows. I'll catch up with you later, alright?"

Fawkes nodded, and Dogmeat, after some minor complaint in the form of whining, followed after Fawkes.

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I entered Underworld, the "city" of Ghouls, as I always did, with feelings of shame and anger. Shame because these ghouls were forced to find sanctuary in the middle of a war zone, and anger at the individuals who's bigotry made it a necessary action for the ghouls. Admittedly things have been getting better for ghouls, thanks to Three Dog and I spreading the meme of tolerance and the reminder that Ghouls were as human as the rest of us, sans the degenerative condition radiation done to their skin.

The Ghouls of Underworld used to cause a small commotion whenever I showed up, as I was one of the few humans who showed up continually. Now though they sorta accepted me as one of their own, sending me friendly nods and smiles, or at least not glaring and muttering hatefully.... with one notable exception.

On the second floor of Underworld, Mr. Crowley was perched above me, his eyes glinting balefully. Looks like he was still angry about how I had uncovered his scheme into manipulating me into killing four people so he could claim a valuable prize, which turned out to be my T51b power armor. Not feeling at all sorry about it, I gave Crowley the finger, and continued my way to Doc Barrows' clinic.

I found the good doctor examining the remains of a feral ghoul, apparently taking a blood sample. I patiently waited for a moment, not wanting to interrupt his work. After about two minutes, Barrows finished what he was doing and then finally noticed me.

"Ah, Marcus Dawn. I heard about what you did on the radio, though I was given the impression that you were in dire straights as a result of your actions. Yet, here you are, apparently fit and hearty. I wonder now if that outlandish broadcaster was embellishing on the details, or there is more to you than meets the eye."

Barrows had always struck me as the kind of guy who would go straight into the heart of an issue. I explained what Doctor Li had discovered, and how I had healed remarkably fast, and the possibility of me becoming a ghoul. Barrows was silent throughout, his eyes glowing with interest.

After I finished, Barrows was silent for a moment, then he called over Nurse Graves, his assistant. After giving her some instructions in medicalese, he turned back to me. "Marcus in order to find out what exactly has happened to you, were going to have to commit several tests. It should take about an hour or so. First we will need a sample of your blood."

Thus began a relatively painless process, starting with the already mentioned blood sample. Then they put a bunch of electrodes on me, then put me in sealed a room and subjected me to several varying levels of radiation, to observe my body's reactions to the increasing levels of atomic energy. It continued on in this manner for a about half an hour longer than Barrows had mentioned, and he was growing notably more excited with every test. Then when it was all over, Barrows was furiously typing into his computer, analyzing the data all the experiments had revealed. He then stood and gave me a long, inscrutable look that I received with a patient stare.

He then began to pace about the room, speaking as he did so "In all my years of research, I have never seen such a unique reaction to such high levels of radiation. Death or evolution into a ghoul are of course the most common reactions, but yours are entirely unique, most likely due to combined factors of the majority of your life spent in a vault, the injection of the Enclave medication into your system, and that experiment you committed on yourself with high levels of radiation, have led to your unique case."

"Which is Doctor?" I was losing my patience, as I already knew all this

Barrows stopped pacing, and looked me dead in the eye. "It appears you have inherited all the positive benefits of becoming a ghoul with only one of the negative side effects. In other words, radiation will amplify a regenerative condition within your cells, and you will live an extremely prolonged life, potentially centuries, with no physical degeneration or skin damage, but you will not be able to have children."

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As I exited Underworld, my thoughts clouded with the information that Barrows had told me, I noticed that Crowley was gone, no longer watching me like an angry hawk. Something about that set alarm bells in my head, and this was reinforced by how the ancient prehistoric exhibit seemed... disturbed. As though a larger than usual deal of people had walked though here and scattered the dust. But no one other than myself had entered or exited Underworld which meant...

They were still here.

As soon as the thought entered my mind, the torches guttered out, and I was swallowed by the darkness. I heard footsteps coming from all directions, heard weapons being cleared of their holsters, of blades whistling though the air.

I closed my eyes, and I knew that my enemies, whoever they were, probably had night vision, and had clearly planned to blind and overwhelm me in the blackness. Well, in about two seconds I was going to find out whether they were going to rush me or fire at me unanimously. Without my power armor, my only chance for survival was if they committed the former action.

The footsteps halt and I hear a cruel laughter coming from my right, followed by a boastful declaration, "Talon Crichton sends his regards"

I have less than a second, and that overconfident bastard just gave me all I needed, for at least a moment. I spring to my right and give myself fully to all I have learned of the Jeet Kune Do.

Jeet Kune Do, "Way of the Intercepting Fist", was a concept of martial arts created in the twentieth century. It was controversial at the time, because it was not considered a traditional style. It was unique to every individual who practiced it, for that person would absorb and learn the best forms of martial arts that applied to them, and abandoned any percieved weaknesses, and leaving a purified form of martial art, with no hindrances, and only swift, sure skill. It also teaches how the user must be like water, to flow around your opponents, and to be aware of your not only your enemy but the environment and how it can aid or hinder you in battle.

My survival right now depends on my ability to do both.

My theory that my opponents have night vision is confirmed when my intended target jumps backward in surprise, but as I see him move in the darkness, I can observe the tell tale shimmer of stealthboy, meaning my foes had come very well prepared, ready to ambush me even without the darkness aiding them. I spare no more thoughts on this, hearing a blade whisper towards me in the darkness, coming from my back, while in front of me, the familiar hum of a laser rifle charging up. I dive forward, and the room is briefly illuminated in red light, and feel the heat of the laser pass where my torso was a moment ago. I barely hear the pained yell of the bastard who was going stab me as he's struck by the bolt meant for me, as I rise from the ground, strike the rifle bearer hard in the face with my elbow, while forcing the rifle out of his hands, likely breaking a finger or two in the process. I follow up with my elbow strike by hitting hard enough in the head with his own gun that I hear a wet shattering crunch. I hear the sound of another weapon being cocked, and I barely shift the recently dying man next to me fast enough to use him as a shield.

The weapon used is a shotgun, and while the now certainly dead man proved a decent enough shield, the force is enough to send me flying to the floor. I roll just fast enough out to feel the gravel strike me from the recently made hole formed by buckshot thats where my head used to be. Not willing to give this guy another chance to kill me, I fire three bolts with my newly purloined laser rifle, at where I thought the shooter was. I was somewhat rattled to hear a woman's scream as the figure fell backward, but the presence of at least one more foe demands my attention. I listened to the darkness, then fired the rifle to where I thought my enemy was.

I quickly learned that my assumption of where the bastard was located was incorrect, as a searing pain penetrated my shoulder. A look in my peripheral vision confirmed the presence of knife, and I barely leaned backwards enough to avoid a lunged blade that would gone straight into my left eye. Maneuvering it as though it were a baseball bat, I hit this guy right in the face with the laser rifles battery, causing a small explosion that blinds me, and judging by the lack of a pained scream, killed the knife wielder instantly.

For a moment blindness fades from my vision, and the adrenaline is still pounding through my system. I turn on the light on my PipBoy, confident that all the bastards are dead. I looked at the four bodies, and saw the by now familiar black combat armor and white raptor claw insignia of Talon Company. The twitch of pain in my shoulder reminded me that I had I still had a knife there. Grimacing in preparation for the inevitable pain, I gripped the handle, counted to five, and pulled.

"FUCK!"

I curse loud enough to wake the dead... and look who is here. Speak of the devil.

Crowley materialized out of the shadows, and I don't know whether he's been waiting there the entire time or had just slithered out of whatever corner he was hiding in. He's carrying a shishkebab, and the gas generated flame swirlingaround the blade is making him look like a demonic specter in the darkness. I sneer at him.

"Still sending others to do your dirty work, eh Crowley?" I indicate the bodies scattered around me. The ghoul said nothing for a moment, but smiled bitterly.

"These incompetents wanted your blood, Wanderer, and in that we were more like partners than anything else. I just gave them the knowledge of your location. And it looks like they managed to soften you up enough just for me to finish you off" The manipulative bastard's smile vanished, and was replaced by an angry snarl "That armor was mine smoothskin! I'd waited decades for the opportunity to get it and have my vengeance on the fuckers who left me to rot with those feral ghouls. I'm going to make this last a very long time indeed." The smile was back, murderous and hungry for blood.

Fighting someone who is wielding a flaming sword with your bare hands is not advisable. Especially if you have a fresh knife wound in your shoulder. So, improvise.

Crowley didn't waste time, lunging across the room with the murderous intent of slicing me into pieces. Not willing to satisfy his wish, I leapt over to the body of the shotgun user, grabbing the weapon used against me moments ago. I aimed it at Crowley but he was faster than I anticipated, and sliced through the barrel as though it were paper, but that proved to be Crowley's last mistake, as the buckshot ignited, shattering the shiskebab, sending flaming shrapnel all over the place. I felt the searing blade fragments strike into the leather of my armor, leaving ugly but harmless scorch marks. Crowley wasn't so lucky, the tip of the blade going directly into his throat. He stood still for moment, the murderous expression supplemented by the flames that were now engulfing his face, and then fell like a burning tree. He didn't make a sound, just let the fire give him his funeral pyre. I was silent, for a moment unable to turn away. I'd activated the purifier, given the Capital Wastelands inhabitants a better chance for survival, and yet it appeared my personal battle for a continued existence would continue. Sigh.

Then with a grimace, I went back into Underworld. I was going to need Doctor Barrows help in fixing up this shoulder. And maybe him or one of the other Ghouls knew who "Talon Crichton" was.

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Next Chapter: To Open a Door


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